


Two Hours and Change

by helens78



Series: Matter of Time [22]
Category: Equilibrium (2002) RPF
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-22
Updated: 2008-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 07:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill's on his own tonight, and he's looking for someone who can keep his interest for a few hours. He runs into a guy he almost knows from the Equilibrium shoot, a guy named Sean who's got an intriguing kink.  Bill's willing to give it a shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Hours and Change

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a part of the Matter of Time series, which is full of noncon, semi-con, and people being jerks. The consensuality issues don't apply here, but the dark tone of the series does. Thanks to kyuuketsukirui for the beta!

Tuxes have really fallen out of favor. Bill shakes his head at the crowd; okay, it's hypocritical to be rolling his eyes at other people's fashion sense when he's here in jeans and a button-down, but sometimes he misses the days when people made an effort.

He misses it more now than he would have a year ago. This time last year, he was still doubleteaming people right and left with Jason. A bunch of guys they could rough up without having to worry about their tuxes would have been like an all-you-can-fuck buffet. On his own, he shakes his head as he glances from face to face. _You'd think they'd at least fucking shave._

A nice pair of shoulders will almost always catch Bill's eye, though, and the shoulders filling out a blue striped shirt make him look twice. From there it's down--damn, no luck checking out his ass, his shirt's covering it--and back up, and when Bill sees the shaggy blond hair, he pauses. When the other guy turns around, he stops in his tracks altogether. _You. I _almost_ know you._

It's Sean Bean, who Bill almost worked with on a straight-to-video movie. Bill never actually met him; their shooting schedules didn't line up. Christian, on the other hand, spent two days fucking him, and Bill remembers the stories. _Not bad in bed if you don't mind someone who gets off on being paid for it_, Christian said. At the time, Bill hadn't thought much about it, but tonight--what the hell; maybe Sean's bored, too. Maybe he'd be up for having someone playing to his kinks.

He works his way through the crowd, waiting until Sean's by himself and looking around for the next person to greet, the next thing to do, maybe the next opportunity to get himself a drink.

"Hey," Bill says quietly, just over Sean's shoulder. "I've got fifty with your name on it."

Sean looks behind him; the shock on his face doesn't quite disappear when he sees who's talking to him. "Have we met?"

"No, but we've got a friend in common. You remember Christian?"

It clicks for Sean, then; Bill can see it. "Yeah, I do." Sean checks Bill out; it's fast, but Bill can see Sean's eyes zeroing in on his cock, his grandfather's ring, his eyes. Interesting set of choices. "Friend of his, eh?"

"Mm-hm. You wanna go somewhere and talk?"

"I don't know what he told you, but let's be clear: talk's all you can buy for fifty. So we can go somewhere and I can _talk_ to you," and Bill knows just what he means by that; tempting, given Sean's accent, "or you can make me a better offer."

Bill considers it. Sean's more than attractive enough, and it's not like Bill doesn't have the money. "What's your idea of a better offer?"

"Tell me what you're after and I'll name a price," Sean counters. He licks his lips; Bill sighs inwardly. _The minute you start thinking somebody's interesting, they get all predictable on you. Figures._

But just because Sean's playing it the predictable way doesn't mean Bill has to go along with it. "Two hours," he suggests, bypassing the easy route of asking what a blowjob's worth. "Uninterrupted. My suite."

"Five hundred." Immediate answer. The guy must rent out by the hour pretty often; Bill isn't surprised and doesn't argue it.

"You're on. When?"

"Give me another hour to finish up here, and I'll meet you."

Bill gives Sean his hotel information, and Sean nods. Either he's got a great memory or Bill's on his way to being stood up, but hell, he's got nothing to lose--either he gets to find out what Christian got to have all those years ago or he saves himself five hundred bucks. It's a win either way.

But an hour later he's in his suite, and there's a knock at the door. He peels himself off the bed and goes to answer it, swinging it wide open so Sean can walk in.

"Got anything you need to talk about?" Bill asks.

Sean nods. Bill takes a seat on the couch; Sean stays on his feet. "Five hundred gets you two hours. It doesn't get you damage: no bruises, no blood, no scars, no pain I can't walk off. It doesn't get you bondage, gags, blindfolds, or any other sort of specialized equipment. It doesn't get you bareback, and it doesn't guarantee you a second date. Any questions?"

Jason would be laughing his ass off about now, Bill knows; Bill's damn near speechless. That's a lot to take in, and the limited number of things Sean won't do makes Bill wonder about the things he will. And the way Sean put it--it isn't that he won't do these things; it's that five hundred won't get them. Bill rarely sees the need for anything fancy, but he's sure as hell interested in getting Sean tied up and bruised now.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and looks Sean in the eyes. "How much would it cost me for damage?"

"Damage doesn't happen on a first date."

_Date, huh?_ It's the second time Sean's said that, and Bill grins at the phrase. Sean really plays this hooker act to the hilt. He knew, of course; Christian gave him all the details after those two nights he paid Sean for, but it's still a thrill and a half to hear this sort of thing out loud. "How much?"

Sean shakes his head. "It's not on offer."

"Bondage. How much?"

"Again, it's not something that happens on a first date."

"Barebacking?"

"Not even close to being on offer. Put it out of your mind; it isn't going to happen."

"Can I come on you?"

"Yes."

"Can I come in your mouth?"

"Not on a first date."

"When did the clock start?"

Sean grins. "The minute I walked through the door."

Bill glances at the clock; it's 11:42, and Sean's probably been here two minutes. "Get your clothes off."

Sean takes the order in stride, which gives Bill another half-dozen ideas for things to do with him while he's got him. He strips down quick, no flashy striptease shit, probably picking up his cue from the no-nonsense tone in Bill's voice. Not that Bill's got a problem with a nice striptease, of course, but Sean's not the type and this isn't the time and place for it. They've got 118 minutes left to go, and Bill isn't interested in wasting any of it.

When Sean's naked, Bill nods at him. Sean's not hard yet, but he's got a nice body--nice and lean, and either he shaves or he's not a particularly hairy guy. Bill's guessing he shaves, though, because his pubes are trimmed pretty neat, and his balls--Bill's not absolutely sure about this, but it looks like they've been shaved clean. He's not cut--no surprise there, he's not from the States--and he's got a nice enough dick even when it's soft. Bill's sure it'll be just fine when it's hard.

But he's not really patient enough to let that happen on its own. "Put your hand on your cock and stroke it 'til you get hard."

It doesn't take long. Half a dozen passes and he's there, and he's got this quick, tight stroke that makes Bill lick his lips. "Pretty," he says.

Sean snorts. "That's not one I hear a whole lot. You want pretty, I can set you up with someone."

_Huh. Touchy about it. Interesting._ "You'll do just fine," Bill assures him. "How are your knees?"

"Good enough."

"Good enough for two hours?"

"For five hundred, yeah, they're good enough for two hours."

Bill shakes his head. "No, fuck that. I want you comfortable for this, not worrying about your knees or having your legs fall asleep."

"But you do want me on my knees."

"Oh, yeah."

Sean glances around the room. "We could move to the bed. Rearrange the pillows."

"Do it."

Sean's off like a shot, not wasting time any more than Bill is. Bill follows him to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it while Sean gets the pillows stacked together and kneels down straddling them. It looks good, and Sean makes a few adjustments, nodding once he's got things settled. "This'll do," he says. "What would you like next?"

"Get your hand on your cock again. Go slow."

He does, but this time he's trying too hard, making little twisting motions with his wrist that _really_ look like they're only there for show. Bill rolls his eyes. "Knock it off," he says mildly. "I don't need you to show off like that."

"What do you need?"

Bill's eyes flick up to meet Sean's. Sean's focused on him, intent, and something about that look is interesting--but it's not half as interesting as what Sean's doing. Bill breaks eye contact and goes back to watching Sean touching himself, the way his hand's moving on his cock. His strokes are slow now, but he isn't being overly showy about it. Sean's settled into a steady rhythm. Simple. Neat. "Better," Bill murmurs. "Nice. That's it."

"Is it?"

Again, Bill looks up. This time he keeps his eyes on Sean's, and Sean flicks his tongue out over his lips. _Oh, damn, now that's tempting._ He doesn't do anything about it, though. He looks Sean over head-to-foot, watching the way his shoulders move as he jerks off, the way his hips rock up just the slightest bit so he can push his cock into his fist at the last second. "Yeah," Bill breathes. "Oh, yeah, I'm liking this."

"There's a hell of a lot more I'd do," Sean murmurs. "What is it you like? Do you like getting sucked? Getting fucked? Or do you just get off on watching?"

"Do you always talk this much while you're jerking off?"

"Just trying to make sure you get your money's worth."

"You're naked, you're kneeling, and you're jerking off because I told you to. I'm getting it, believe me."

"You do like to watch." Sean grins again. "I'm surprised you didn't bring a friend along. Someone who'd fuck me while you sat back and gave directions."

Something in Bill's gut twists. "I'm not paying you to talk," he growls.

Sean just arches an eyebrow, but he does shut up; he goes back to his slow strokes, one falling into rhythm with the next.

It's what Bill wanted. It's exactly what he was after. Five minutes ago, he was ready to watch this for two hours straight.

He stands up and starts taking off his clothes; Sean's eyes light up, and he licks his lips again. "Don't look so fucking interested," Bill says. "This isn't about you."

Sean shrugs. "Just tell me where you want me."

"Floor. Forearms and knees. Right now." Bill grabs the emergency condom out of his pocket before dropping his jeans on the floor; Sean's already off the bed and getting down on all fours in front of Bill. Bill kneels down behind him and slaps his ass--not hard enough to hurt, but it definitely makes a sound. "You need lube?"

"There's always spit if you want to see me hurting."

"Oh, nice. You're just full of good ideas, aren't you?"

"You seem to need the help."

"And you're pretty damn mouthy for somebody who whores himself out to anyone with enough cash." Bill sucks two fingers into his mouth, and then he's holding Sean open with one hand while he works those fingers into Sean's ass. Sean opens up pretty fast, and it doesn't seem like it's killing him. Bill pulls his fingers back, spits on his hand, works three fingers right back in.

"Push back," he says. Sean does, and Bill guides him into a quick, jerky rhythm; based on the quiet sounds Sean's making, it's hurting him some. Bill's glad about that, and maybe later he won't be proud of himself for it, but fuck it; if Sean didn't want to get hurt like this, he wouldn't have suggested it. This was his idea, Bill reminds himself. Sean's here because he _wants_ to be.

Enough foreplay; Bill's ready now. He pulls his fingers out, gets the condom on, and starts working his cock in, and even with the spit and the stretch, it's not easy. Sean's getting louder now, groaning, grunting; Bill smacks him on the ass again. "Shut up," he snaps. "You wanted it like this; don't bitch about it now."

Sean responds by shoving back hard, and Bill grabs for Sean's hips to steady himself--Jesus, the friction's rough, almost hard on Bill, too. "That's it," Bill murmurs. "C'mon, boy, work for it."

And he does. He keeps pushing back, fucking himself on Bill's cock, and after a few minutes, Bill rests his hands on Sean's hips and holds still, letting Sean do all the work. Sean pushes up on his hands, gaining a bit of leverage, and the only sounds he makes are his fast, panted breaths and the sound of his body coming into contact with Bill's. It's rough, not elegant; Sean doesn't strike Bill as a graceful guy to start with, and he isn't showing off now. Right now it looks--

It looks _honest_, and the realization makes Bill surge forward, getting a hand into Sean's hair.

"Don't fuck with me," he warns.

"I'm _not_\--"

"Oh, you're not? You're not acting?"

"What the--"

Bill gives Sean's head a rough shake; it shuts him up. "I warned you about showing off." He drives in hard; Sean doesn't so much as make a sound, but Bill can feel Sean's body going tense from it. He does it again, harder, and Sean grunts; he sounds like he's hurting. "Don't bother pretending you like this; I really don't give a shit."

Sean goes still, and after a second Bill feels the tug against his hand as Sean nods. Bill starts right up again; he keeps one hand in Sean's hair, puts the other one on his hip, and starts moving--fast, deep, brutal. Sean starts making noises again, but this time Bill doesn't try to stop him. The noises sound honest, pained, but Sean's still moving into Bill's thrusts. Maybe this is how he wanted it all along; at this point, Bill's too intent on his own needs to care.

No reason to be a complete shit about it, though. "If you want--" Bill has to stop and lick his lips, pant for a few seconds to get his breath back. "If you want to come, get your hand on your dick and make it fast."

Sean doesn't need to be told twice. He shifts his balance to one hand and starts jerking off. It's a lot faster than he did it on the bed, and Bill pushes in deep enough to get Sean shouting. "Hell, yeah," Bill growls. "Make some fucking noise, bitch, you're getting paid enough for that."

Bill's close as hell, but it's Sean who goes over first, yelling hoarsely, ass tightening up almost unbearably around Bill's cock. Bill lets Sean's hair go and shoves him flat, driving in hard for the last few strokes, pinning Sean's arm underneath him. He bites at the back of Sean's neck, coming with a muffled groan of his own; he might just leave a bruise, but at this point he's betting Sean won't give a damn.

It's a while before Bill catches his breath. He knows he ought to move, can only assume Sean's having some trouble breathing with Bill collapsed on him, but he only gets up when he's goddamned good and ready to, and he pads into the bathroom without a word.

When he comes back out--a little cleaner and a lot more calm--Sean's still lying where Bill left him. Bill gets his jeans back on, then squats down next to Sean and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"We're done here," Bill says quietly. "But you owe me fifty-eight minutes."

Sean tilts his head up and gets his hand out from under him, squinting at Bill. "Bullshit. You want me to leave, I'll leave, but we agreed on five hundred for two hours. If you can't get it up again fast enough to use the time, that's your problem, not mine."

"I didn't say I couldn't think of things to do to you. I said I'm done with you for the night." Bill fishes his wallet out of his jeans and takes out his cash; five hundred-dollar-bills, which he tosses at the floor next to Sean's head. "If you don't want to see me again, then take the money and go. If you do, we'll take it as a given that I've already paid for the first fifty-eight minutes of our second date, and we'll go from there."

Sean sits up, collecting the cash as he does. He goes over to the couch where he left his clothes and gets dressed, stuffing the money into his pocket. "I assume you've got a phone number," he says. "Are you planning to hand it over, or do I need to guess?"

Bill smirks at Sean's back, but he scribbles down his number on the hotel notepad. He walks over and hands it to Sean, who puts it into his pocket along with Bill's money. "If you don't hear from me in a week's time, you're not going to," Sean warns him.

"I'll try not to wait by the phone," Bill drawls. "Good night."

Sean lets himself out without saying goodbye, which doesn't surprise Bill at all. He's grinning as he heads back to the bed, eyeing the clock and considering the time. _Not tonight_, he decides. He'll let Jason know what he missed out on in the morning.

_-end-_


End file.
